Timeless
by Snowpoppy
Summary: Happy things don't last forever. Neither do sad things. What lasts, then? The shards of the broken vase, or the glue that binds them together? The story of a proud, stubborn, unwilling girl who doesn't quite know how to glue the glass shards back together.
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Prince of Tennis.**_

* * *

**I felt like writing this. I just did. Even though I have a million other more important things I should be doing. Oh well. Anyway, this is a new writing style I'm experimenting with, so forgive me. **

**Enjoy.**

* * *

Time is something unfathomable.

You can do with it what you wish, but in the end you are warped by it. No matter how much you wish to reel back the years, time keeps moving. Moving, sweeping the broken shards of glass along with it.

It is not a choice to move on. It is not a choice to forget. It is not a choice to walk on the shattered glass. It is not a choice to watch the blood trickling beneath your feet, staining the clear glass with a scarlet hue.

Time moves on, and therefore you must too. It is not a choice, and it never will be.

* * *

I stood outside of our apartment, the gray hoodie brushing against my face. It was a cold September morning, the skies an overcast gray. The wind whipped my hair until strands were loosely scattered across my face, brown crisscrossing pale gold.

I stood like a statue, clutching a piece of paper in my hands. It was stained with my dirty fingerprints, very much worn. It too fluttered in the wind, forever attached to my cold and raw hands.

I stood, looking out on the street as a spectator, waiting for only one thing only. The vehicle that would take me out of the hell I lived in, the hell of a life I lived. The vehicle that would take me into a dream.

The vehicle that I regarded as an angel, something that would swoop down from the sky and pick me up, sending me to some other place... some other place that was not the dark hellhole I lived in.

The minutes ticked by slowly as I waited. Waited with my little grocery bag, hoodie, and letter.

When the official-looking limousine pulled up to where I was standing, my heart was pounding. The driver rolled down his window and looked at me suspiciously. "Are you Saito Rin-san?"

I trembled at the force and brusqueness of his voice. "I-I am..."

The driver jerked a thumb to the back. "Get in please, miss." Somehow, the polite words sounded odd coming from his mouth. But either way, I obeyed and climbed into the back seat, inhaling the scent of sour citrus.

The limousine was so orderly, so clean. So far from what I was used to- a cramped dirty car or the sweaty subway. I put my meager belongings on the seat next to me, cringing at the way it looked so out of place in the top-notch limo.

Self-consciously, I tried to smooth my straggly hair and brush off the dust from my clothes. Lifting my chin, I hoped I didn't look like a sewer rat, which I was sure I bore a lot of resemblance to.

Staring out the window, I wondered what my new job would be like. The letter had said it would pay well and all that stuff, but who knows what crap my uncle would write. Outside the window, towns, forests, mountains, and plains all passed by.

**Xxxxxxxxxxx**

I was asleep when we reached the place I was to work.

"Hey. Wake up, please."

"Nngh?"

"We're here."

I popped up instantly. "Sumimasen." I opened the door, ducking my head as not to hit the top. I straightened up as soon I as got out of the limo. What I saw... well, it surprised me.

Because my uncle had _not_ told me I would be working in a prison. Ah, but if it paid well, I was happy. I watched and followed as the driver took out a key and opened the massive black gates. I was heavily aware of the cameras, twisting to and fro, keeping a watch on us.

I silently hoped that my uncle would be there to greet me. All of a sudden, I noticed we were walking on a path. The buildings nearby didn't seem like a prison, either. I decided to ask.

"Eto... what kind of place is this?"

The man shot a surprised look at me. "You don't know what kind of place you're going to work in?"

"No..."

"Well, from what I know, it's a high-level camp for tennis players," The man said. He gestured to the buildings. "High-tech stuff going on behind those windows, too."

"Oh... okay," I said and lapsed into silence. I didn't know what to talk about. What did I use to talk about? I didn't remember, and I didn't try to remember. There was no use in trying to stir up the past, either way.

The man led me down a series of white corridors. The white color seemed to jump out at me, telling me how unclean and impure I was, how I wasn't fit to be in such an obviously prioritized place.

Finally, he stopped. "I'll leave you here," He said and bowed to me once. Then, he set off down another hall, not bothering to look back.

I drew a deep breath, trying to calm myself even though I knew that I had faced much more pressuring situations before. Knocking twice, I cautiously twisted the door handle and opened the door a fraction of an inch.

I heard a chuckle from within. "Come in!" A voice called and I timidly stepped in.

The room was certainly high-tech, as the driver had described the entire place. Monitors and grids were all over the place, making it look like an espionage center. "Hello," I said, hoping that the tremble in my body didn't transfer over to my voice.

My uncle turned to me. "Rin-san. I am glad to see you are well." There was a gentle smile on his face, so I should've been reassured, but I hated the pitying look in his eyes. I hated the pity that was always showered on me wherever I went.

"As I am, oji-sama." I intended to keep this conversation as short, formal, and polite as possible. I did not want to incur the wrath of my employer the moment I stepped into my soon-to-be workplace.

I turned to the other two men in the room. "Yoroshiku onegaishimasu," I said to both of them, bowing. The one with long black hair smiled, laughed and said, "Saito, you've got a polite one here, huh?"

I said nothing.

Saito smiled down at me. "Well, then, Rin-san. We invited you here to take care of practical matters, didn't we? So, essentially you will be our housekeeper. You will take care of any matters that escape our and the staff's attention."

Wow, that sure was detailed. Like, what kind of matters? I said as much, and my uncle's face grew thoughtful. "I don't know," He said. "Things like laundry, dishes, cleaning, general stuff. Except the cooking- we've got chefs to take care of that."

I had one _tiny_ question on my mind though. "How many people are in this... camp?"

"Oh... there are almost two hundred, but not quite."

"...You want me to do almost two hundred boys' laundry?"

"What, now?" My conniving uncle smiled at me. "Are you saying you can't handle it?" He probably knew that I was willing to work for anything, as long as there was money.

"No... it's fine," I said. I wondered how much time it would require to wash two hundred boys' laundry and dishes- plus all the other stuff Saito had probably forgotten. I sighed, but cheered myself up by telling myself I would receive rooming, food, and money.

"Alright, then!" The seven foot devil said. "Let's go meet the boys, yes?" He stood up and instantly banged his head against beam. He muttered something about 'how many times a day', but walked on, clutching the spot on his head.

As I followed him, I wondered if I was making the right choice. Then I remembered home, and I set my jaw.

There was no price to pay, since I was not buying anything.

**Xxxxxxxxxxx**

"Okay. Players, this will be your housekeeper and dorm parent for your stay here. Saito Rin." Saito spoke through a megaphone, and I could feel hundreds of curious eyes all beamed onto me. I wished I could sink into the ground.

All of a sudden, a voice spoke up from the small crowd below the balcony.

"Saito-san!"

I looked down... into the face of a red-head I recognized. I squinted... and said, "Is that you, Kikumaru Eiji?"

"Nyah! She remembers me! Nyah, Oishi? Our former Student Council President remembers me!"

"Welcome back, Student Council President!"

* * *

**How was it? I actually have a plan for this story, which is unexpected. Tell me if you liked it or not, please? You know what you're supposed to do (hinthint_review_hinthint)!**

**~Snowpoppy.**


	2. Chapter 2

**And here is the second chapter. I liked writing this, so I left my other story (s) in the dust and wrote the second chapter of this. I know it's not very long, but I hope you enjoy it!**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

It had been my intention to remain unknown. After all, that was the best way to avoid trouble. It had been my intention to remain unseen- as the little shadow traveling across the walls.

My intentions had been shattered the moment I acknowledged Kikumaru Eiji as somebody I knew. I didn't blame him for recognizing me, but I did blame myself for recognizing him and blurting it out.

Now, wherever I went, curious glances of all kinds followed me. Some, like from the high school players, were malicious. As if they wanted to say, 'Look at her. She knows one of those wimpy middle school brats. So pitiful.'

I hated that, and I wanted to sink into a hole.

I hid.

That was the only thing I could do- no, that was the only thing I wanted to do. I hid in one of the unused upstairs rooms, doing laundry at the same time. I wanted to cut off my nose from the stench, and only the promise of money kept me going.

Sometimes, my uncle would come to visit me, but that was rare. Instead, I fell into the dull routine of washing, cleaning, and then repeating it again. It was dull and hard, but it was something I could lose myself in.

Something I could hide in.

* * *

It was another day of washing. Somehow, those boys went through clothing faster than a sprinter could run. As soon as I finished one pile, another one came. During the free times, it was back to dusting and sweeping the dirty floors.

I sighed. Looks like the dryer's ready, I thought to myself. I was just about to open it and unload it when the door behind me opened. I jumped, startled.

"Hello, Saito-san."

I turned around, and for a moment I was glad it wasn't Kikumaru. That boy was way to hyper, something that always left me exhausted. Then I refocused on who it actually was.

Brown hair... brown eyes... glasses... carrying a book... who could it be? He looked very boring, until a certain mental image suddenly registered in my mind.

A boy who looked just like him, except younger. Class representative of 1-B. Regularly helped out with the Student Council. Top student of his year. I narrowed my eyes.

"Hello... Tezuka-san."

He nodded curtly, the look on his face showing no surprise. His eyes traveled from me to the laundry, and they took on an understanding look. He glanced back at the door, probably listening for any signs of his teammates.

I regarded him curiously. "What brings you here?" I asked, turning back to the laundry. I had work to do, but I also found myself quite anxious for some conversation.

"I thought I would find you here... sensei..." Tezuka's voice held a trace of mirth, which was rare. I looked up at him, a little surprised. I nodded at him to continue, folding the clothes into neat piles.

He took out a small book, which I recognized very well. In neat script, the front read 'Accounts and etc.' in black pen. I marveled at how his handwriting had barely changed in so many years.

"I'm having trouble ordering the accounts for the annual Spring Festival..." The question remained hanging in the air. Silently, I stood up and took the book and pen from his hands.

I opened it to the bookmarked page. "Do you have the records with you?" I asked, gesturing for him to follow me. I was going to do those blasted accounts in my room, not in some bleachy laundry room.

"Hai..." Tezuka fished out a stack of crisp white papers, handing them to me.

As I began to write, old memories flooded my brain. I told myself to concentrate and go through each paper carefully, as I had done so many times. For a moment, it was as if I was sitting at my desk in Seigaku, organizing the scattered accounts that Ririe (our accountant) had left in tatters.

When I was half-way done, I turned towards Tezuka, who was gazing down at my handiwork intently.

"Do you see?" I pointed to the neatly charted expenses, sources, and numbers ensconced tightly in the page.

"Hai... arigatou, sensei..." Tezuka took the book and pen from me, nodding his thanks. I watched him go, a look of sadness crossing my eyes. He would be graduating this year.

And when he went into high school, I wouldn't be there.

I sighed and waved a small goodbye, which Tezuka didn't see. I stood up and gathered the laundry, ready to go and deliver them. The huge pile of clothes obscured my view as I traipsed into the dim hallway.

I was walking fairly fast until I walked into something. I figured it was another wall and turned away, that is, until I saw a strangely familiar figure out the corner of my eye.

Tezuka?

"Sorry," I said. Tezuka nodded, accepting my hasty apology. As I started walking again, I heard a "Wait" from behind me.

Tezuka caught up to me and took the laundry from my arms. "I'm taller," He informed me matter-of-factly, as if he wouldn't bump into any people or walls.

I stared at him, feeling a blush growing on my face. Then, within the span of a heartbeat, I realized something that sparked my anger instantly. He was doing this because he thought I couldn't do it well enough.

Impulsively, I said, "I can handle it," and snatched the pile away from his arms. I refused to look at Tezuka's face and instead quickened my pace.

I reached the second floor gasping for air. I set the clothes on a large, low table where I knew the boys would eventually find it. I leaned against the wall, crossing my arms.

I had no acted appropriately at all, now that I reflected on my own actions. I had not acted as I would've acted two years ago. But then again, I too had changed in two years.

What would Tezuka think of me now? Would he think about me still as a sensei, a mentor? Or would he look down at me and see me as a pitiful shadow? A pitiful shadow of what I was two years ago?

And I had not even thanked him. Acknowledged that he was being at least considerate. He could not know of my situation. He had acted as he would've acted two years ago, innocently not realizing that I had changed.

It was then that I realized that I owed Tezuka an explanation. Or maybe even an apology.

An explanation is telling the truth. And sometimes the truth hurts more than you can bear. An apology is like having a bruise, and then punching the bruise until it swells into an embarrassing balloon.

I wanted to do neither, and I would do neither.

I let out a sigh, having cleared my mind for the better or worse. I figured that all the players would've gone back to the training by now, and decided that right now would be a good time to clean the dorms.

As I picked up the broom, I could feel myself slowly disappearing from reality. Into a world where only dust, broom, and myself existed.

I liked it that way.

It was dull. It was hard. It was boring. It was mediocre.

But in all ways, it suited me more than I could imagine. A broom, a layer of dust, a person, and a world. It was something far, far, far more forgiving than the endless harsh world that I lived in.

* * *

**How was that? Did you like it? I like the character, Rin, though. Tell me what you think in the little helpful box below! **

**See you soon and don't forget to tell me your ideas! See you soon.**

**~Snowpoppy**


	3. Chapter 3

_**Disclaimer: The standard (I don't own Prince of Tennis).**_

* * *

**And, I update! Wow! lately, the days have been going by like a snap of the fingers. I guess that's what happens when you get older, huh (not that I'm old, anyway).**

**I hope you enjoy this chapter. Read and review!**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

Somehow, the more of a fixture I became to the U-17 camp, the more my interest grew in what happened on the tennis courts. I occasionally caught a glimpse of the courts, but I had never stayed long.

My curiosity was sparked when talk of the match between court three and court five reached my ears. I had no idea what those two things were, but somehow the urge was strengthened by my confusion.

The day before the match, I worked twice as hard as I normally did- finishing the next day's work as well. My shoulder ached, and I was glad that I would be able to take a break tomorrow.

The day of a match, I acted normally, not as if I was about to see possibly the most interesting thing I would ever see. It was easy to tell when the match started- all of the men in the camp all flocked towards one court.

I followed.

The match was well underway, as I had had to clean the dining room floor after the players left. My eyes widened as I saw who was on the court.

Tezuka.

Yamato-senpai.

Yamato?! I had no idea he still played tennis.

* * *

**(Third person POV)**

Rin watched in silent fascination. She had never seen a tennis match of that caliber- when she had been captain, it had been just batting the ball back and forth and seeing who lasted the longest.

She cupped her chin in one hand, watching the ball go back and forth.

It was a pity when the match ended, she thought. Rin dusted her hands off and stood up, preparing to leave. She had just taken a few steps when she felt a hand grab her shoulder.

Rin winced. She shook it off and turned around. "Kikumaru..." She said, her eyes blinking once. "What do you want?"

"Ne, Rin-chan. Oishi told me you used to play tennis!"

Rin stiffened. "He did...?" She said carefully, not making eye contact.

"Can you play with me? I wanna see if you're good!" The red-haired boy jumped up and down excitedly, his eyes gleaming.

Rin shook her head. "Sorry. I have work and I'm not very good." It was the truth. How could she compare to someone of Kikumaru's caliber. Seigaku had won the Nationals with him on their team.

"Aw, come on. Just a little bit, please?" Kikumaru begged, his eyes shiny. Rin looked down and was instantly trapped. Her mouth moved without the consent of her brain.

So somehow, Rin found herself saying, "Fine... but just for a minute or so." As the bouncy teenager tugged her down to where presumably Oishi was sitting, she wondered if she could actually swing a racket.

"Ne, Oishi. Rin-chan said yes!"

Then the brown-haired girl found out that the entire of Seigaku was standing in front of her. "Saa, long time no see, Saito-san." Fuji was the first to speak up, smiling his omnipresent smile.

Rin nodded, bowing. She stood awkwardly while Kikumaru said something about 'let's play tennis with Rin-chan'.

Inwardly, she groaned. How was she going to explain that she wasn't going to be able to swing a racket?

"Well, then. Let me rally with you," Inui said, his glasses glinting. "For data purposes."

_Like you're going to get any data..._

"Here's a spare racket!" Kikumaru handed Rin one of his spares and made a peace sign.

Rin looked down at the racket. It was a plain gray and black one, which suited her perfectly fine. "Arigatou," She said, though she really wanted to say, _Are you trying to torture me or something?_

"Shall we warm up some ground-strokes?"

"Sure..."

Inui fed the ball to her forehand. Rin hit it, making sure she never raised her shoulder, which was still sore from yesterday's work. They continued in that way, but it was obvious that Inui was much better than Rin, who was having to work for every ball.

After a while, Rin fell into a pattern in which she didn't have to think much. Hit, hit, hit. Feed, hit, hit, hit, hit, hit.

"Saa, Saito-san. You have an unusual finish. And you don't extend outwards, either," Fuji noted, a smile still playing on his lips. Beside him, Tezuka nodded, staring at Rin.

After a couple minutes, Rin had worked up a sweat while Inui was still not breathing heavily at all. It looked like he was just playing around with a toy, although the toy happened to another fellow human being.

"Shall we warm up some serves?" Inui returned to the baseline after having written something in his omniscient notebook.

"...I guess..."

Inui served some light serves at her, which she deftly caught with her left hand. All except one, which whizzed past her right side. After gathering all the balls, Rin retreated to the baseline, where she bounced the ball a few times and stared unnervingly at it (poor ball).

_Well, let's see if I can do this..._

Rin tossed the ball high in the air and began her service motion.

As she began to raise her racket to hit the ball, she could feel a jerk and then a complete stop of her shoulder. Then, a wave of hot pain as Rin dropped the racket, which clattered noisily to the ground. The ball bounced a couple of times before stopping a few feet from her.

Rin dropped to the ground onto her knees, holding onto her right shoulder. She gasped for air as each wave of excruciating agony hit her shoulder.

"Are you okay? Rin-chan? Rin-chan!"

"...I'm... fine..." She managed to say before drawing in two deep breaths and standing up, swallowing the receding pain.

"...So your shoulder was hurt..." Fuji mumbled to himself, realizing that was why the girl never extended or raised her shoulder when hitting her ground-strokes. Until, inevitably, she served.

"What happened to it?" Tezuka asked softly, looking down at her. His own memories of his elbow and shoulder still haunted him, although he was fully healed by now.

"I injured it a while ago... it's not something that I really want to talk about..." Rin replied, flexing her shoulder gingerly.

"I understand..." Tezuka said, turning away.

"Well, I better get back to my work now," Rin said, starting to walk away. Until yet another voice stopped her in her tracks. "How do you work with an injury, Rin-chan?"

"I don't." Rin walked away quickly, leaving Kikumaru and the rest of the Seigaku team to ponder her vague response.

"She's a strange girl, isn't she?" Momoshiro said, looking at the rapidly disappearing figure of Saito Rin. "Just like her uncle, Coach Saito..."

"I have a feeling that there is more to her," Inui added, his glasses flashing eerily. "What an interesting project to work on."

**Xxxxxxxxxxx**

Rin retreated to the bathroom, where she wiped off her forehead. It had been dripping with a cold sweat. She leaned against the wall, enjoying the air conditioning blowing loose strands of her hair around her face.

She sighed. Slowly, she raised her hand to her shoulder. The unpleasant memories flooded back into her.

**(Flashback)**

_"Why don't you go to work?! You have to pay the bills, you know!" _

_"Don't tell your father what to do, Rin... don't." _

_"Well, I'm telling you what to do right now, because it doesn't look like you're going to go back to work without somebody telling you to!" _

_Silence. _

_"Rin. Apologize."_

_"No! I won't! Kaa-san wouldn't approve you right now either!"_

_"What did you say? Don't talk to me about your mother!" _

_"I will! She's my mother!" _

_"Don't! YOU HEAR ME? DON'T TALK TO ME AS IF I'M NOT WORKING MY ASS OFF FOR YOU RIGHT NOW! YOU HEAR ME?! DON'T!"_

_"NO! YOU AREN'T! YOU'RE JUST TRYING TO HIDE! HIDE! HIDE! HIDE FROM REALITY! YOU'RE A HORRIBLE FATHER! I HATE YOU!"_

_Darkness..._

**(End flashback)**

Rin sighed, stroking her hair bitterly. She had nothing but regrets, and everything but peace. I guess that's how the world works, she thought. She sighed again.

This time, it wasn't a sigh of frustration.

It was a sigh of many feelings. Regret. Sadness. Bitterness.

* * *

**How was it? I know it was a bit angsty, but here I am listening to some Clannad soundtracks. So, yeah. **

**See you soon, and tell me if you liked it or not (via review, please :D)!**

**~Snowpopppy**


	4. Chapter 4

**Dance. Dance. Wave hands. Take that, you peeps. A chapter! Wow. Anyway, I'm really glad I finished this before I died. School is so busy, and I have even less time to log on, let alone write a whole chapter.**

**I hope the souls who died on 9/11 are resting in peace. This is my tribute. Skip if you're not American. :)**

**Anyways, enjoy. **

* * *

I looked at my cellphone accusingly. What was my uncle thinking, inviting me to his monitor room/office for a 'friendly chat'?

The way his voice sounded on the message, however, wasn't exactly 'friendly chat' mode. It was more of a 'get your butt to my office or else' mode, and I wasn't exactly wanting that after a long day of cleaning sweaty bedsheets.

But I went anyway, because I was sure there was something he wanted to tell or lecture me about. Besides, there could be consequences if I didn't.

I threw down my chipped grey cellphone and got up, dragging my sore ass down the hallway and into the monitor room my uncle liked to call his office. "Excuse me," I called as I stepped in.

Hoping my face looked reasonably pleasant, I bowed and looked up at my eccentric uncle.

His normally calm face had a worried tone to it, and I relaxed knowing he wasn't (probably) angry. "Well, Rin, I congratulate you on your hard work and perseverance. I must say you've done a good job so far."

"Arigatou." I kept my voice short, sweet, and emotionless. I wondered what he had called me to talk about. I would send him to hell if he had just called me here to give me two sentences of encouragement.

"Anyway," Saito continued, "Today I received a call from my brother in-law." He smiled gently and looked at me hard. "Rin. I didn't ask you why you came looking for work while school was still going on, but it seems I will have to."

I gulped and wiped my sweaty hands across my jeans. "Yes," I answered, the word barely audible even to myself. Damn my father. Why'd he come poking into my business when he was the cause of all this?

Saito looked at me again, and this time there was no fire in his eyes. Only cold, very cold ice.

"Why, Rin? Why did you drop out of school?"

The words drop out came out roughly, like he was embarrassed to say it.

My eyes widened. This wasn't the question I had expected. Apparently, my dad hadn't told his brother in-law much. I shrug my shoulders and say, "To support my parents. It's not like school was really helping me, either."

One truth. One lie. Close enough.

"Should I be the one to force the truth out of you?" Saito asked, his expression growing more impatient by the second. "If I don't sense that you're telling the truth, Rin, I'll fire you."

_Fire you... fire you... fire... fire... fire... fire..._

"No! You're wrong... I mean, I'll tell you the truth. Just so long as I can keep the job," I added, knowing that the excellent amount of money I reeled in every week was vital to my family.

"Good. So why did you drop out of school, Rin?"

"You would've known already," I said with gritted teeth, "If you had actually visited your family once." I avoided my uncle's boring stare and forced my mouth to move.

I paused. "So, yeah... I dropped out of school because mom got cancer. And hospital bills are... expensive." My voice was full of resentment, and I didn't care to hide it. What kind of uncle was he, not even bothering to check on his sister's family for some sixteen years ever since I had been born?

Saito flinched. "Itsuko...?"

"Cancer, I said. I'm working so I can pay the bills here..." I trailed off, opting to stay silent instead of letting out all of the sarcasm that was rising up in my throat. I felt waves of bitterness override me.

My uncle had never visited home.

I only learned I had an uncle when I dropped out of school, and needed a job.

Saito sighed... a long, deep one. He massaged his temples and lifted his head. His eyes had suddenly turned tired, not sharp with intelligence like before.

"You're dismissed," The coach said, not making eye contact with me. "For today."

"Excuse me," I said and bowed, leaving the room in a rush. So fast that I barely noticed that there was a person in front of me.

I bowed out of habit and muttered a quick 'sorry', not in the mood to engage in idle chat.

"Saito?!"

"Huh?" I whirled around, annoyance evident in my voice. I always had a short temper when I was annoyed. Even when I didn't know why.

Suddenly, I froze. I focused on the familiar-looking person in front of me and flinched. "Yamato..." I breathed, slapping myself mentally. He wasn't supposed to know I was here.

He thought I was far, far away in America, living happily under another a roof.

"Oh, um, hi," I stammered. "Just back for a visit. Um, bye."

I ran off, my heart pounding in my chest, reminding myself that most people considered me to be a horrible liar.

"Saito-"

I ran faster, ducking into a hallway I knew my classmate would not be able to follow or find. Classmate. The word sounded so odd to me, yet so familiar. Classmate.

We were classmates, both in 1-D and for a while in 2-B, before I dropped out. He and I didn't know each other particularly well, but we were both involved in tennis and student council, so we both knew each other's names for the most part.

But to meet him here...

Careless. A careless mistake on my part. I groaned and looked at the laundry in front of me. It reeked, and no matter what I did, the smell still got through to my head.

I halfheartedly jumped up. I figured that being depressed was no good, and maybe a little work would help me take my mind off Yamato. I knew he would ask questions, and that was not what I wanted.

Why didn't I want him to ask questions?

Such a small thing, really. But if he asked questions, all my hard work would crumble to dust in a single second. I know I'm not a great liar, and the fact that it could all come down at once really scares me.

That facade I built for so many years, ever since I got into junior high up until now. That beautiful image of a calm, poised young lady with a bright future, bright like stars.

Actually, I had believed it myself. Until mom was diagnosed with cancer. Then everything fell apart, and it was all I could do to keep my image the same at school. Because that's where it really matters, right? What other people perceive you as.

I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and cursed softly under my breath. I vowed to never, ever get involved in that stinky pot of people again as I reached for the piles of clothes sitting in front of me.

* * *

The night air felt crisp and fresh on my skin as I slipped out one of the many back doors in the U-17 camp. It felt especially good after a long day inside.

The trees rustled, and a peace slowly spread across my chest as I stood pressed against the wall, closing my eyes.

A sharp clicking noise interrupted the chirpy silence, and I flinched. What was that? It oddly sounded like a pen, one of those ballpoint ones.

The bushes once again rustled as a shadowy figure climbed out. I drew in a sharp breath, and choked back an angry shout that was dying to come out from my throat.

"Inui," I said evenly, wondering what he was doing behind a bush. "What are you doing here?"

I had never liked Inui... somehow, he was just too creepy. But he was a good tennis player, so I had to respect him for that. He seemed the type that would stalk you across the seven oceans if you interested him enough.

Inui looked at me. Or, more accurately, his glasses looked at me. Thick, opaque ones. He cleared his throat and said, "You've not done a good job erasing yourself, Saito-san."

He smiled, the creepy kind that gives you the shivers.

"It's very easy to break into school records, you know. It's very, very easy to find where one's been."

His words chilled me to the bone. He knew I was a drop-out? I was surprised he wasn't spitting on me, the way they treated drop-outs in Tokyo. Like trash, a bad influence on people.

I sighed tiredly. I found that I had been doing that a lot lately- sighing. There wasn't anything I could really say, was there? _I'm a high school drop-out with messed up parents. Nice to meet you._

Inui paused in his monologue-ish conversation.

"Well..." He said, looking straight at me. I said nothing, only looked down at my worn sneakers. "Just know that when there is nothing left, don't forget... that it's never too late."

Inui straightened up and gave me a glimmer of a smile, which I didn't return. He walked away, the pen in his hand clicking distractedly while I tilted my head and watched him retreat into the night shadows.

What was that supposed to be? Never too late? Never too late what? A bunch of corny crap, really.

But then it hit me like a ton of bricks.

Was he trying to be... _nice?_

* * *

**How was that? I tried my best, and I'm sorry if it's not good or anything. It was written in bits and pieces, so it probably reads that way. Oh well. At least it was written.**

**Thank you so much to all the people who reviewed and favorited and followed this story! It really has motivated me, or otherwise this document wouldn't be here today. **

**Reviews are my life. Thanks, angel-peeps. **

**See you somewhere, if not soon.**

**~Snowpoppy**


	5. Chapter 5

**After finishing writing this chapter, I realized I had written a very depressing chapter. I wrote this while listening to sad Youtube music, so I was slightly depressed. And it was raining, so yeah. **

**But, I hope it's not too late of an update. :3 I know it's been a long time. **

**Enjoy, as always.**

* * *

It's a very sad thing to know that your kohai- your underclassmen- feel sorry for you and want to help you. Or, be nice to you.

Inui probably had good intentions. Actually, it wasn't his fault. It was entirely my fault that I was so annoyed. After I dropped out of school, I hated those withering looks when they asked you what school you attended and you told them that you weren't in school.

They never bothered to ask why, just flicked their fingers dismissively and said 'next' in the line of interviewees. In truth, I was lucky I had landed the job at the U-17 camp.

It wasn't the greatest, but it came with a tidy bundle of money.

Because those hospital bills and chemotherapy treatments and radiation and whatever sure cost a lot. Looking at the numbers made my eyes cry, the first time I looked at them on that clean, crisp white sheet of paper delivered to our apartment.

Dad had just ripped it apart, cursing and tossing it in the garbage. I hadn't bothered to tell him he should have used the recycling bin, only fished it out and painstakingly taped it back together again.

* * *

I walked down the empty hallway, my footsteps echoing strangely off the walls. A small table was set in the corner, its delicate wooden legs hardly matching the utilitarian place it was in.

I used my finger to lightly brush the smooth top. I looked at it, noticing a gray film of dust coating my finger. A pretty thing like that shouldn't have dust on it. I used the corner of my long shirt to brush the table, the white shirt graying instantly.

"Saito-san?"

I instantly recognized the voice of Tezuka. It was low and brusque, but there was something alive underneath it. Probably his passion for tennis.

Continuing walking, I acted like I hadn't heard him.

"Saito-san!" I could hear his footsteps going at a jog now, and I knew that if it turned into a running contest, there was no way I would win. Obliging to the rules of society, I turned around and looked at Tezuka, who looked back at me, his eyes ever serious.

**Tezuka's POV**

I wondered why she looked at me so strangely. There was nothing I had done to offend her, right? I looked closer at the girl who was two years older than I, and I remembered how she had seemed so tall and strong and proud when I was a first-year at Seigaku.

Now, even though she was a high school second-year and close to graduation, she seemed so small. Was it because I had grown? Her face seemed so young, but so hard.

Now that I looked closer, there was nothing of that fierce confidence I had respected her for years ago. It had been replaced with a look of suspicion, like a lost puppy wandering the woods, trying to find its home.

I realized that I was staring, and remembered my grandfather's words: "It's rude to stare at girls! You must be very nice to them, or they'll bite you right back in the behind."

Opening my mouth, I swallowed and said, "I just wanted to tell you that-"

I paused a moment, wondering how to phrase my words.

"Shut up!" Saito interrupted me, her eyes angry. "Shut up. Don't tell me that Inui sent you here, okay?" She started to turn around, but then spun around again and snapped, "Just go away with all your nicey nice-ness! Just leave me alone, okay?"

It was like my blood froze. What had I done to deserve _that?_ I simply watched the former student council president stalk away, her ears slightly pink. I heard her sniffle, and suddenly realized that she was crying.

What was wrong with her? Screaming at me while crying?

I shook my head and walked away in the opposite direction, towards the garden. I had only wanted to tell her that I was leaving for Germany today... an inner part of me fumed, but I calmed down and told myself it didn't matter.

Someone else would tell her eventually, but it irked me that she would receive the news when I was already in Germany, far far away from Japan. That simple fact irked me far more than I wanted.

**Normal POV**

I was sick of it all. Sick of everything going so wrong. Where was my fairy tale dream that I had so carefully planned out? Where was the beautiful, radiant family that had used to be my reality?

It had all gone so wrong. And it was all... I don't know whose fault it was, really.

Who said I wanted people to be nice to me? Tezuka trying to be nice to me was like rejection. He of all people should know that I hated pity. I hated helpful hands, I hated those pitying eyes that spoke, "I feel _so _sorry for you. Like, totally."

It was all so awkward. But I could still pretend that I had something left. My pride, my dignity had to be left intact, no matter what. That was what I was known for.

That was what I was going to use to rebuild myself again. I needed no one, absolutely no one, to help me up.

As I walked down the endless hallways, my knees shook, no matter what I did. They shook with fury, sadness, and frustration. I punched a nearby wall, my knuckles protesting all the way.

When I reached my room, my knuckles were red and raw from repeatedly abusing the walls. I washed them with cold water, the coldness numbing my knuckles in a way that soothed me.

I spotted an letter opener, one item that I had brought with me from home. It was stainless steel, something that I liked to polish and look at the slice of my reflection in its blade.

The blade was so sharp and smooth, straight like an arrow. I picked it up, the silver handle feeling cool in my hands. I looked at the edge, glinting in the light.

Without any thought, I raised it above my heart, and thought about what it would be like to stab myself. Lowering it, I experimentally cut my wrist.

The cut was short and shallow, but a small line of blood edged it. It was almost pretty, the nice, straight, orderly line of blood droplets. The pain, too, was refreshing, making me feel some kind of emotion other than anger.

It was close to pleasure, but the feeling was laced with a tinge of guilt. Honestly, it wasn't that bad. Just a small cut. Lifting the blade into the air, I cut myself a little higher on my arm, enjoying the sensation of sharp pain cutting through my skin.

It felt like cold air enveloping your skin, hot and cold and bitter and sweet at the same time, on a frosty winter day.

The blood spilled over, and I brushed a finger against it, lifting it up for inspection. The blood was crimson red, a pure kind of red that made your heart raced. It was... beautiful.

So pure, that my heart ached. I wish I could be like that, all crimson and red and lovely. I smiled slightly, wiping the rest of the now-clotting blood onto my palm. I let my back fall against my bed, the letter opener clattering onto the carpet, leaving a tiny red stain on the tan carpet.

I closed my eyes, sleep enveloping me quickly, even though it was only approaching seven o'clock.

* * *

_"Mom..."_

_"Don't say it like that, okay? You make it sound like I'm dying..." There was no humor in the older woman's voice, and Rin stiffened. _

_"You're not going to die." There was a mask of confidence and stability in her voice. _

_"Yeah... I'll hang in there for you, 'kay?" _

_Rin shifted. "You'll always be there for me, right? Always?" _

_A tired smile crossed Itsuko's face, revealing light wrinkles and creases. "...always..." She said, casting her eyes towards the window. _

_Turning back to her daughter, she said, "Rin... if I get worse... if I get a lot worse..." She paused, adjusting the IV on her arm. The pillow made her shoulders look especially bony, Rin thought, not really paying attention. _

_Itsuko swallowed hard again and continued. "Rin, if I get worse, and I start to die, and when your daddy tells you, don't come, okay?" _

_"What?"_

_"If I start to die... don't come see me. Rin, after this visit, don't come see me again, okay?" _

_"Why?! Mommy, you love me, right?" There was hungry desperation in Rin's voice as she spoke to her mother, the look of a five year-old in her face._

_"I do, honey. I always will. But I don't want you to see me as a weak, dying person. Don't feel sorry for me, okay? Don't come visit me anymore."_

_Rin's eyes widened, and as she turned and bolted through the door, her mind repeated the last words her mother had spoken to her. _

_"Don't feel sorry for me. Don't come visit me anymore."_

_WHY? WHY DID THIS HAVE TO HAPPEN?! WHY?!_

* * *

**How was it? Did you like it? God, this really is depressing. But I hope you liked reading it. I need to make Rin more happy. By the way, I noticed that this changed from third-person to first-person, but whatever.**

**I feel that in first-person I can express Rin's emotions better. :)**

**I'll be back soon, sometime.**

**~Snowpoppy**


End file.
